


To the First Blood

by sciencemyfiction



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, cassandra is a hawke fangirl, fighting scene practice, leliana is a cassandra fangirl, practice fighting scene too, who wouldn't be excited about a match like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2766977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencemyfiction/pseuds/sciencemyfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>pirateboots on tumblr made this post and I accidentally a fanfic:</p><p>"Imagine Marian Hawke offering to spar with Cassandra and Cass absolutely fangirling.</p><p>Then imagine that view.</p><p>Leliana would suddenly have lots of ravens to send out so she could watch from the rookery tower.</p><p>Josephine would decide that the natural light was better for writing letters in.</p><p>Sera and the Inquisitor wouldn’t even disguise what they were doing as they watched from their roof."</p>
            </blockquote>





	To the First Blood

"Lady Pentaghast!" 

Leliana frowned, gently smoothing some ruffled feathers down around her crow’s leg as she fastened the tiny message pouch in place, and approached the window that overlooked the training dummies down in the courtyard. Skyhold was still a shock even six weeks after taking residence, and she suspected anyone looking up at her tower would probably not notice a woman in the window for the glorious reach of the mountains behind and above her. 

"Or do you prefer Seeker Pentaghast? I was wondering which I should call you." Marian Hawke was, indeed, approaching the seeker and her training dummies, and gathering quite a bit of interested parties simply by existing. Leliana set the crow aflight, and spotted Josephine at the front gates, quickly excusing herself from the delegates for the merchant caravan that had just arrived; Scout Harding was surreptitiously scooting closer, ostensibly still deeply invested in the report she was writing; and across from Leliana's vantage, just outside Cullen’s office, Sera and Inquisitor Adaar, whispering to each other. 

"Ser Hawke." Cassandra answered, somewhat stiffly and a bit louder than she should. Those who didn’t know her very well might have assumed anger, but Leliana could pick out the tones, even at this distance. There was a bit of embarrassment,  _what has Varric told her about me_ , maybe a bit of shame, too  _please, please don’t tell me she’s heard about the dragon_  and, of course, there was barely concealed curiosity and hope about what THE Champion of Kirkwall could possibly want with someone so mundane as Cassandra infuriatingly insisted on seeing herself. “To what do I owe the honor of your presence?”

 "I heard you were looking for me," Hawke purred, and oh, she must be projecting on purpose. Leliana hid a smile behind her hand, and continued to listen with considerably more than half her attention as she spent the rest of it making up an excuse to send another bird. Perhaps a check-in with Threefinger; they hadn’t reported in lately. 

"I was." Though she was no longer ostensibly of nobility, Cassandra had a very strong way of carrying herself, and it reached into her voice. "At the time, I had hoped we might request your aid with the Inquisition, and would accompany me to the conclave at Haven." 

Finishing her note, Leliana quickly scooped up the nearest bird, and went to the window while she worked the message into its little pouch and fastened the pouch on the bird’s leg. All simple tasks, finicky but also things she’d done so many times she could complete the needed work while poisoned, freezing to death or bleeding out. That left plenty of room for her to watch the goings-on below. 

Hawke was now standing before Cassandra, both of them resplendent in their armor, and oh, Hawke  _was_ taller than Cassandra. A quick glance revealed Josephine writing very unconvincingly on a bench near the blacksmith and fanning herself despite the ever-present chill of Skyhold. Harding was flushed, but heroically continuing with her report. The Inquisitor was leaning on the wall’s edge, openly longing to be down where the other two were; Leliana guessed, probably rightly, that Sera had convinced her to stay put so they didn’t risk interrupting before the fighting got good. 

And Sera, looking right back at Leliana across the rooftop, blew a kiss and winked. Leliana smiled back. 

"I see." Hawke struck a thoughtful pose. "Well, I have a disagreement with a friend, Seeker, and I was wondering if you might be willing to settle it."

"A disagreement?" 

"No, Cassandra," Leliana whispered to herself, as her fingers finished fastening the message to her bird and she let it free, sending it aloft. "A bet. Surely you can see that."

"About whether you are, or I am, the stronger warrior between the two of us," Hawke agreed, beginning to circle slowly towards the practice arms. She picked up one of the swords there, and motioned towards the one already in Cassandra’s hand. "About which of us would win in a duel."

Bristling, Cassandra set her own blade down. “That is ridiculous. And pointless. Such a contest would only be divisive, and it is not I that is a legendary warrior, Ser Hawke.”

"Ah, but you are more legendary than you give yourself credit, my dear Seeker. And we would not duel to any great harm; first blood only. Besides— I think I could stand to learn a thing or two from a woman who just helped kill a dragon last week." 

Leliana bit her lip against the urge to giggle, but across the courtyard Sera made no such effort, and when Leliana (and several others) looked up, neither the Inquisitor nor Sera made any effort to hide the fact that they were eavesdropping. Notably, neither Hawke nor Cassandra seemed to notice the interruption. 

"Very well," Cassandra sighed, reaching to take up her sword again and sliding easily into a defensive stance. "It would be my honor."

"And mine, Seeker." 

Both women were incredibly fast on the battlefield, which was something Leliana had always admired about Cassandra. Many soldiers might feel uncomfortable about setting down a shield once they’d gotten used to carrying it, but Cassandra practiced regularly with and without, with sword and dagger, even with a greatsword to keep herself prepared for any situation. As for Hawke— she had a distinctly Free Marches brawler style to her fighting, stinging quick and fast like a mugger might, in quick for the press and back out doubletime to keep from getting hit while she was close. 

They moved like fire moves against oil, Cassandra striking where Hawke led her and then driving her further out into the courtyard, where there was space to move and grow and consume the attention of the world around them. Had it been one of Varric’s books, Leliana would not have been surprised if Hawke delivered a series of one-liners as they were fighting; but since both women were quite accomplished and serious warriors, they kept their silence until a low and deep thrust of Hawke’s blade at Cassandra’s feet forced her to dodge back, half-flipping and catching her balance as she landed with her freehand to the ground, one leg wide and one knee bent. 

"Maker, you’re fast!" Hawke laughed, undaunted by her failed strike.

Though from this angle she could not appreciate it, Leliana could hear the smile in Cassandra’s voice as she answered, “Try to keep up, then, Hawke.”

They pressed again, their feet taking them right past where Josephine sat. Neither she nor Harding were bothering to pretend at doing anything else anymore, though Josephine was still fanning herself. Cassandra was on the offensive now that she was back on her feet, feinting and knocking Hawke’s blade down so hard she switched to the other hand, shaking it out. That was the only moment where they paused, as Cassandra asked:

"Did I hurt you?"

"Oh, no, but I had this fool notion that I’d handicap myself by using my right hand. I’m better with the left."

"Ah!" Instead of being offended, Cassandra laughed. "You must not have heard any of those terrible stories about me, then."

"Are they as bad as the one about me?" 

"Much less fun to read, I assure you."

From their vantage point, Sera and the Inquisitor were clearly rooting Cassandra on, and Leliana couldn’t help but do the same. Marian Hawke was infamous and certainly a welcome personage in the Inquisition, but Leliana’s loyalty lay with the woman who’d served beside her and Justinia all those years. A proper duel probably oughtn’t roam as much as this one was, but it was more fun this way, Leliana thought. Neither Hawke nor Cassandra ever ran away from the press or backed down. Indeed, both of them seemed to be forgetting that they ought to be working to win the fight, simply enjoying the contest of skill for what it was. 

Hawke  _was_ better with her left hand, and a few years Cassandra’s junior, too. That might not give her an advantage, but Leliana knew all too well the old hurts that sometimes kept Cassandra up later at night, especially in cold weather. They came into another sword lock, and this time they seemed evenly matched for power, neither backing down, even as their arms began to shake and the blades scraped along each other’s edges. 

Both pulled away at the same time, seeming to come to the conclusion that they could not win this way. Hawke began to maintain her distance, keeping Cassandra on the offensive, and Leliana felt a wash of disappointment as she realized the strategy behind it. Cassandra was the sort of person whose pride and temper were too easy to set aflame; now she might not see the trick for what it was, and tire herself out until she couldn’t defend properly. Not to mention she’d been training when Hawke approached and was arguably already more tired than Hawke if one followed that logic. 

But instead of falling for the trick, Cassandra made two swipes at the air where Hawke  _had_  been standing, then noted Hawke’s distance and fell back with a laugh. 

"Can I ask you something, Hawke? About Isabela."

Even from this distance, Hawke’s posture and expression were notably quite suddenly defensive. “What about her?”

Leliana couldn’t help but worry what might be said, and leaned out of her window a bit further, biting her lip. Surely Cassandra wouldn’t—?

"Did she teach you how to do that strike? The— you handle your sword like a dagger for it. It is very clever, but it doesn’t seem to match the rest of your style." Cassandra demonstrated briefly. She couldn’t make the jab quite as quickly as Hawke, but it looked like that was only due to lack of practice. "I know Varric doesn’t handle daggers, so I thought perhaps—"

"You’re right, actually. Though she’s certainly not the only person I’ve trained with." Hawke had relaxed by the time she interrupted, and smiled when Cassandra nodded to herself. "I was half afraid you were going to ask me to get her to join your Inquisition. Couldn’t get a boat up here, so I’m pretty sure she’d turn you down."

"That is true. And— while her help would certainly not be denied, I did not think you would appreciate me asking you to bring the woman you love into this. It is a dangerous business." 

"That it is, Seeker." Hawke lifted her sword again. "Shall we continue?"

Leliana tore herself away from the window long enough to make sure nobody else was in the aerie with her, and then took a slightly better spot to view the fight. At this angle she could actually see their faces. 

"To the first blood, was it not?" Cassandra lifted her sword as well, though she kept it lower than she had up till now. "Let us finish our duel for today, Ser Hawke."

They both moved, it seemed, at the same time, Hawke aiming for the middle, Cassandra swinging her own blade out wide, leaving herself wide open. A very foolish move, but then Hawke lunged out, and Cassandra swerved from her prior path, following her sword arm and, Leliana realized with surprise, her weight. Had she guessed wrong which direction Hawke would be attacking toward, Cassandra would have been off balance and fallen right into the attack. Instead she found her feet in one swift motion, took another step and came in from behind Hawke, bringing her blade up to the Champion of Kirkwall’s throat. 

It was too much; Josephine, Harding, and several of the other scouts lingering near the tavern erupted into applause. Sera and the Inquisitor were cheering up from their vantage, and hugged excitedly while Leliana was glancing their way. She couldn’t help a prideful smile, and almost would have missed Cassandra’s laugh if she hadn’t re-arranged her viewing spot mid-fight. 

There, blossoming on Cassandra’s shield-hand, was a tiny scratch bleeding red, matching the one on Hawke’s throat. 

"I think we should buy each other drinks," Hawke announced cheerfully, as Cassandra started chuckling outright and the sword dropped away from Hawke’s throat. "What do you say?"

"How could I refuse? I have not enjoyed a duel so much in years."

They seemed oblivious to the cheering and outrage around them, and certainly didn’t notice Josephine dashing redfaced up the stairs toward her office. Leliana made a mental note to tease her about it later. But what lingered was the most pertinent question: which of them had scratched the other first? Did first blood count only after blood showed?

She dragged herself from the window and got back to work, preoccupied for much of the rest of the day. Leliana was quite good at keeping busy while her thoughts were elsewhere. She had still not come to a conclusion about whether there was a clear winner or not several hours later, when she found herself abruptly visited by the object of her thoughts. 

"Cassandra? Is everything all right?"

"Oh, yes. I got to duel the Champion of Kirkwall, I am actually quite excited!" She laughed, sounding generally content with how events had come out. "Of course, someone has probably already told you the details. But Varric and I are about to play a game of Wicked Grace, and since I am terrible at it, he said I could bring a friend."

"You aren’t upset about losing the duel?"

"Certainly not. It was only by technicality, in any case, so my pride is not too badly injured."

"And  _you_  are playing Wicked Grace with  _Varric_?” Leliana made a face, and couldn’t help teasing a little bit. Around them the crows rustled, some squawking softly, most undisturbed by their talk. She couldn’t be sure the same was true of the few researchers on the level below still working at this hour, and lowered her voice just a bit, still joking. “Are you certain there are not darker forces at work here?” 

Cassandra waved a hand dismissively. “Varric, Hawke, and the Inquisitor, to be exact. Will you join us?”

"Of course! I couldn’t miss this. I’m not expecting any messengers in tonight, so I shouldn’t be needed until morning." 

As she fell into step behind Cassandra and they both began down the stairs, she couldn’t help sneaking a glance at the small scratch left behind on Cassandra’s hand. It was a simple thing, and one could probably argue it didn’t need the touch of magical healing or a potion to cure it. Probably, if pestered, that is exactly what Cassandra would have said. But instead of packing it with some healing herbs and bandaging it tight, Cassandra had simply wrapped it in light gauze and left it as it was. Either it was a trophy of an exciting match and she wanted to treasure it, or she was upset with herself for losing and trying to conceal it. 

Leliana found, as they made their way through the slumbering halls of Skyhold to the tavern, that she couldn’t decide which was more likely. 


End file.
